


Romeo and Juliet, part 2

by cerulean (NightsWatch_Chef)



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anxiety, But this is mostly Baysha, F/F, Flashbacks, Friendship, Heavy Angst, Love, Mentions of Baymella, Mentions of Charlynch, Romance, Trauma, Violence, acute stress, baysha, very dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26673109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightsWatch_Chef/pseuds/cerulean
Summary: In times of war, love should never be forgotten. Love is a violent, overwhelming force.A Baysha one shot. Based on the September 18, 2020 episode of Smackdown.
Relationships: Sasha Banks/Bayley | Davina Rose
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	Romeo and Juliet, part 2

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: acute stress disorder, anxiety, violence
> 
> Please pay attention to the notes and tags!  
> This may not be what you think. Very dark / heavy angst. 
> 
> Quotes from Frank Castle / The Punisher and Karen Page from Netflix’s Daredevil season 3 will be interspersed throughout, italicized and underlined.  
> Individual character thoughts will be in italics only.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Which, as they kiss, consume

\- William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

She forgot exactly how long she was sitting on the edge of the bed. Contemplating whether she wanted to remove her socks or not. Bayley wore dark purple pajama pants, woven in a soft but thick material. She was shirtless but wore a black bra that had a deep plunge, her forearm tattoos on full display. Her leg muscles were tensed, and she was hunched over while sitting, her tight fists supported her chin. She leered at the wall.

If her stare could burn holes into the wall, she would do it.

There was an unusual rage bubbling inside of her that she discovered, in the past 2 weeks, was becoming progressively difficult to control.

In her private locker room in the Thunderdome and in the Performance Center, she would scream. She would yell. She would throw things. She would destroy things.

And she would return again, each day, to find that everything was fixed. And back in its place.

And the staff said nothing to her. They were even too afraid to make eye contact.

Just polite nods and murmurs of pleasantries.

_“Good morning, Champ.”_

_“Good night, Champ.”_

And the cycle of her private and public rage would continue.

Bayley could feel her presence enter the bedroom, but she opted to ignore it until she could not any longer. She closed her eyes, instead burning the rage through the darkness of her own mind until it was a blinding red, as if she turned her head in the direction of a bright light with her eyes shut. An airy, flowery perfume greeted her nose and a hand touched her head, manicured nails rubbed her scalp.

“Time for bed, Champ?” a sugary voice asked her.

Bayley attempted to quell the rage that she obsessed over, like a quick exorcism of the demon that haunted her. The demon that grew hungry for gold and for victories. That hungered for revenge. The demon that was created, manipulated by multiple forces. But she had to focus now, she had to successfully quiet this monster to be in the moment.

To become everything she needed to be for the woman who shared her bed. Bayley straightened up, allowing her arms to fall to her sides, as she opened her eyes.

She smiled up at Carmella.

Carmella wore all white: her matching lingerie and sheer, silky robe that fell just below her knees. Her bright blonde hair in long, careless waves. Her skin was flawless, and her muscles were well-defined, exquisite.

“You look beautiful, baby,” murmured Bayley, her eyes scanning Carmella’s body.

Carmella grinned. “I thought you’d like this. Would you like to help me take it off?”

Bayley gulped, and instead of arousal, she felt panicked. She and Carmella had a longstanding friendship but it was ignored in the past couple of years because Bayley chose to make Sasha Banks the centerpiece of her life. But after September 4th, she and Carmella decided to be close once again, and even to take things a step further into the realms of friends with benefits. Unfortunately, Bayley could not fulfill her end of the benefits part because of her own preoccupation with the stress of the past few weeks. And other feelings that she shoved into the dark recesses of her mind, those feelings that conveniently popped up whenever they were unnecessary. _Those_ feelings. The only intimacy that occurred between them was kissing and cuddling, and Bayley knew that would not satisfy Carmella.

“Let’s cuddle first and then I could help you with that,” Bayley offered, touching Carmella’s hand.

Carmella's smile faded a bit but, nonetheless, she sat down in Bayley’s lap. Carmella wrapped her arm around Bayley’s shoulder, and rubbed her fingertips through the back of Bayley’s scalp, running her fingers through the dark haired woman’s undercut. Bayley often had designs or sayings shaved into her undercut, and this time, Carmella convinced her to shave “Mella” into her hair which was punctuated by a dollar sign at the end. Bayley embraced her tightly, and her hand fell to Carmella’s exposed thigh.

Their lips touched softly for a kiss, and Bayley attempted to break way and make it a brief kiss, but she was stopped by Carmella’s firm grip on the back of her head. Bayley succumbed and allowed Carmella to take over with her lips and tongue.

Finally, Carmella pulled away and gazed at Bayley with mild concern. “Bay… what’s wrong with you?”

“Just, you know… just all the recent stuff with…” Bayley trailed off, she could not bring herself to say her name.

“You did nothing wrong. And I know you’re worried about what people are saying about tonight, but whatever. They don’t know what she put you through,” Carmella said kindly, while rubbing the back of Bayley’s neck.

_But. Do you even know what she put me through?_

Bayley never told Carmella any details. Even in the past, when she and Sasha argued about things and Carmella would get involved as a good friend, she never told her the truth.

“She was going to stab you in the back at some point, she always did before. You just struck first to protect yourself. So these people can’t judge you,” Carmella continued on, then planted a kiss on Bayley’s cheek.

Bayley rubbed her friend’s lower back appreciatively. “Thank you, babe. You’re right… they don’t understand.”

“Well, enough with that drama. Maybe we could cuddle naked? Would you like that, Bay?” asked Carmella sweetly, continuing to plant kisses on the side of Bayley’s face.

Bayley’s heart fluttered painfully, and she spoke slowly but rapidly: “Uh… we um… we can later tonight, I just need to blow off some steam or somethin’. I just don’t feel right. I’m going to the gym and I’ll be back.”

Carmella frowned. “You’ll be up all night if you go to the gym now.”

“But, isn’t that what you want, baby?” Bayley said, recovering with a smirk and a wink.

* * *

_“…Complicated, like most people… I might have feelings… But ingredients, not love.”_

_“[She] hurts people. [She] damages them, breaks them… So those are the people that you get out of your life.”_

Sasha Banks could not find a comfortable position. This was an issue for weeks after someone she trusted placed her neck in the fold of a steel chair and ruthlessly stomped on the chair. When this happened, the air was pummeled out of her throat and her larynx collapsed. Her arm and hand twitched violently from the shockwaves of pain. The hands that used to comfort her had viciously hurt her that night. Hurt her enough to warrant acute medical care in a hospital. Hurt her enough to possibly end her wrestling career.

And tonight, those same hands were armed with a steel chair again. And the chair crashed into her back during her interview at the Performance Center. Her former friend’s hands violently grabbed her and ripped off her neck brace, before once again placing her neck in the folds of a steel chair. She cried in pain, and managed to open her trembling eyes, and grabbed Bayley’s hand.

_Stop._

_Please stop._

_Bayley!_

She could not say anything, her voice was too weak and her throat trapped in a steel cage. But she pleaded with Bayley with her eyes, and Bayley hesitated slightly. And then that’s when the staff rushed in to jump into the fray.

Now, Sasha was at home, and she adjusted the cushions around her, and she adjusted her neck brace - for what felt like the millionth time. She lived in a world of pain. In more ways than one. She would never feel comfortable again.

She had to consciously stop herself from thinking about the recent trauma. She lost everything. She lost her best friend. Sometimes, she was too afraid to close her eyes. When she could not see the physical world, her mind would slip into the harsh memories of the derangement in Bayley’s eyes. The angry contortion of Bayley’s lips, the twitching rage in her best friend’s facial muscles, as she attacked her. Again. And again. And again.

And Sasha would be forced to open her eyes, because she could not imagine Bayley’s face for too long. She barely slept because those images swam in her mind non-stop. And when she did sleep, the same nightmare would rouse her from sleep. She would awake gasping for air, holding her throat, her skin clammy with cold sweat. Tears burning her eyes before she could fully realize consciousness. The same nightmare. Bayley’s figure stalking her, as she lay broken by the barricade. Cowering, lifting her arms up in a symbolic attempt to wave the white flag at her friend’s vicious red eyes. In her nightmares, Bayley always growled, “Don’t look at me like that!”

_Bayley._

_Please._

Sasha Banks. The Legit Boss. The Blueprint. The Standard. The Leader.

Cowering. Terrified. Pleading. Injured.

_Stop._

_Why?_

Broken.

And Bayley. _Her Bayley._ With those soft brown eyes. And that warm, gentle smile. When she hurt her knee on the ring post, she only wanted Bayley. She shoved away the medical staff, and she reached out for Bayley to help her. In her vulnerability, Bayley broke, snapped. Sasha had never seen this before in Bayley. And when she was not thinking about Bayley brutalizing her, she thought about the possible motives. The thousands, and millions of possibilities. And she would never know the truth of it.

_Do I deserve the truth?_

On Smackdown, Bayley pretended to tell the world a week later the truth of why she attacked Sasha. Sasha watched this apprehensively on her TV screen, her heart racing out of control with skipped beats mingled with the palpitations. Seeing Bayley sent shockwaves of pain throughout her body again, her chest tightened, her muscles twitched, her stomach churned, her throat suddenly became dry. It was as if Bayley trained her body to be afraid. To allow even the sight of the dark-haired woman to wreak havoc on her anatomy. She had to take slow, steadying breaths to register what Bayley was saying on TV.

She noticed how shiny Bayley’s eyes were, and there was a hint of red in the sclera of her eyes. Not the red she saw in their violent encounter that rushed her to the hospital. The red of sadness, of tears. Bayley was not crying though and her voice was confident, unyielding.

Frightening.

_“I never cared about you!”_

_“I never cared about our friendship!”_

Each statement of venom was like a poisonous arrow that struck her body. Her mind and body were already injured, close to a breaking point. _How much more could she endure? Why would Bayley torture her like this? Did she deserve this punishment?_

Sasha had desires. She had feelings. It was human nature. And she put aside her natural inclinations of selfishness, to help her best friend succeed.

In tonight’s Smackdown interview, Sasha felt like a complete wreck. She wanted to hide from the world, but she knew she had to confront everyone and provide some insight. She had to confront Bayley on national television. Emotion pulsed through her body as she struggled to hold back sobs, her voice was weak from pain and from anguish. Bayley could have fractured her neck, this reckless action could have ended her career or worse… _And why?_

Sasha asked herself repeatedly every day, as if she could speak telepathically to Bayley: _why?_

Even with a weak voice, she still managed to muster up what little courage remained within her to challenge Bayley. To threaten to take away the only thing that Bayley loved: the blue belt that would often hug her chest. And it was sad, really, that Bayley became so obsessed with gold over time.

Bayley. Who was an idiot. Who was naive.

_“You’re nothing without me. You are nothing… without me.”_

In the past, the superficial lust for gold was something Sasha usually fell prey too but she sacrificed for Bayley. Over and over again.

Because she did not love the championships and the main events and the accolades.

She only loved Bayley.

And she never realized it until it was too late.

_And I’m nothing without you._

And those words were never said. And now it’s too late. The war has begun, and people were choosing sides. Many claimed to support her unconditionally, but Sasha still felt alone. She had relied on Bayley’s support for so many years, that without it, a huge void was left that could not even be filled by a hundred raucous supporters.

Even the person currently visiting her home this evening was not enough. Nothing she could say or do would ever be enough. And this hurt Sasha’s heart deeply because she wanted to feel and appreciate others’ kindness to her after the horror of the recent events. Pain overloaded her physically and psychologically, and oddly numbed positivity. Bayley’s violence had that power on her.

Sasha looked up as Charlotte Flair entered the living room, handing Sasha a glass of wine. She sat down on the couch as well but on the other end, allowing Sasha the physical space as if this provided a bit of privacy. Charlotte watched her friend closely and spoke carefully.

“I know you’ll never ask me, but I can stay with you,” Charlotte said, before taking a sip of her own wine.

Sasha gripped the wine and stared down at the alcohol. “Are you worried Bayley will break into my house or something?”

“Well,” Charlotte stated shortly before pausing and frowning, “I guess it’s possible. We don’t know what the hell is going on with Bayley. What she did a couple weeks ago, what she did tonight… stalking you in the Performance Center and waiting to strike from the shadows. I don’t know if it’s safe for you to be alone, Sasha.”

“Char, I’ll… I’ll be fine. I changed the locks,” Sasha whispered. Her grip on the wine glass turned into a tremble, the alcohol quivered in the glass. Sasha’s mind raced with fear: thoughts of Bayley appearing in the middle of the night while she tried to sleep, thoughts of no one around to stop Bayley from completely destroying her.

The air caught in her painful throat as she imagined Bayley’s rough hands dragging her around the living room, smashing her into the walls. And Bayley once again fitting a chair around her wounded neck, and screaming at her that she deserved this. Bayley stomping the chair repeatedly until her bones gave up and shattered. And with no one there to save her, would Bayley beat her until there was no breath left in her body?

Sasha tried to breath but it was if her diaphragm stopped working, and her lungs were frozen. Her heart beat in a quick and chaotic rhythm. Panic rose in her throat, the same helpless, vulnerable panic she experienced repeatedly after Bayley physically harmed her. She attempted to hide her tearful gaze from Charlotte, who was watching her like an overprotective hawk.

Charlotte sighed, while watching Sasha’s wine glass. “Drop the act, Sasha. There are no cameras, no fans in here to see that you’re afraid. I’ll stay. And I will involve the authorities if Bayley appears on your property tonight.”

Finally, the breath escaped from Sasha’s mouth and she stifled her sobs.

“Don’t be crazy, Char, that won’t happen. I have alarms… I have a phone. I’ll call you if I need you.”

“Call the police first and then call me. Don’t be a hero, and if I leave then I won’t get here fast enough to stop that lunatic,” explained Charlotte, her familiar, stern tone enveloped her words.

“But if she did that, then she’s really fucking lost it,” Charlotte continued on, sipping again from the glass.

“Yeah…” was all Sasha could come up with in a weak, tired voice.

Charlotte peered over at her. “So what happened between you two? Did something happen after you lost the tag titles?”

“No… not really…” mumbled Sasha.

She thought about the last pay-per-view and their rematch against Shayna Baszler and Nia Jax. Sasha was appalled that Shayna would use her own arm in the submission maneuver against Bayley. Sasha was furious that Bayley gave up, that Bayley submitted. She stonewalled Bayley for a bit after this but she knew they had to re-group, to win their titles back. They continued to train together, even if Sasha was a bit more quiet and more cold than usual towards her best friend.

“I’m just guessing here, obviously… But, maybe she snapped over that? Because she couldn’t be Bayley Dos Straps anymore?” questioned Charlotte.

What did not make sense was that Bayley was still a champion, even after tapping out to Shayna and when they were both pinned by Nia, she still had a singles title - _so why would she suddenly attack Sasha over this?_ Sasha should have been the one to get upset. Because she lost all of her gold. She should have been overcome with anger. She should have been the one to attack Bayley for her stupidity, for her failures.

But she didn’t. And she would never.

Maybe in the past. But not now.

And not in the way that Bayley chose to act.

“Or… has something been happening for a while?” asked Charlotte, setting her wine glass down on an end table but not taking her eyes off Sasha.

Sasha frowned slightly. “What…?”

“What’s going on between you and Bayley?” Charlotte said this but it sounded more like a statement instead of a simple question.

“It’s obvious, Char, she’s mad about something… I don’t know what you want me to say—”

“It is kinda obvious, Sash! There’s something deeper between you two and you’ve never talked to me about it. And I’m sure you’ve never talked to Becky about it! So, after everything that’s happened, I’d like to know what’s going on finally,” Charlotte interrupted.

Sasha set her glass down on an end table as well because her hands were shaking from anger. “Char, what the fuck are you talking about? And why are you bringing up your ex-girlfriend?”

Sasha was completely perplexed. Charlotte was initially supportive and caring, but now this felt like an FBI interrogation room. And for some reason, Charlotte thought it was a good idea to bring up her ex, Becky Lynch. As if bringing Becky into the conversation brought credibility to her assumptions.

“You love her,” Charlotte stated plainly.

Sasha could not believe her ears. Heat was rising from her neck to her face, the heat of anger and embarrassment.

“What? No!” Sasha proclaimed loudly, as loud as her weak voice could achieve. Due to this, her throat felt more strained and she anxiously adjusted the brace again while looking at her friend in utter confusion.

Charlotte shot back a wry smile. “Please don’t do that to me, Sasha. It’s tiring. The whole world is tired. You’re in love with Bayley.”

“Huh?… Excuse me?” Sasha whispered, glowering at Charlotte.

Charlotte raised her eyebrows and imitated Sasha’s tone in mock confusion. “What was that? Excuse me?”

“I’ve had a lot to deal with lately, and here you are making things up,” said Sasha, looking away.

“Let’s not do that tonight, Sasha. Really… Cut the crap. And you know what? Maybe that’s why things got messy between you two in the first place. You can’t be honest with me in this conversation, so how could you be honest with Bayley? How could you even be honest to yourself?”

Sasha, still gazing at the wall, as tears filled her eyes. “How could you say that, Char? You’re saying I caused this? That I made Bayley…”

Sasha could not finish her sentence, she could not bring herself to say that Bayley brutally attacked her. Tears were falling down her face, shame rising into her vision.

“I’m sorry…. that’s not what I meant,” Charlotte said tenderly, and she rose up.

It seemed in an instant, she was crouching in front of Sasha. She placed a hand over Sasha’s, her thumb rubbing Sasha’s skin. Sasha continued to look away, the tears were already overwhelming her but she was far too ashamed to look into Charlotte’s green eyes.

* * *

_“My old lady, she didn’t just break my heart, she… she’d rip it out, she’d tear it apart, she’d step on that shit, feed it to a dog. I mean, she was ruthless, she brought the pain. But she’ll never hurt me again. You see, I’ll never feel that.”_

She walked on the treadmill for almost 15 minutes. She focused on the movement of her hips, legs, and feet on the rubber track.

_Right foot._

_Left foot._

_Right._

_Left._

The monotony was pleasing. Bayley had to focus on mundane movements or else thoughts would haunt her mind.

The fear in Sasha’s eyes. Her trembling, shaking. Pleading. Her tears. Her cries.

_Her still, unmoving, broken body._

Bayley clapped her hands over her face to halt this stream of imagination.

_I did nothing wrong._

_She deserved it._

_She was getting ready to strike me down…_

_She never cared about me._

_Never._

_I —_

Bayley had a brief reprieve from her thoughts when she noticed that someone stepped onto the treadmill next to her, and was punching buttons on the exercise machine screen to start the track. She turned to her right and saw Becky Lynch, clad in a white compression shirt and red shorts, white compression stockings covered her legs. Her red hair pulled back in a pony-tail.

“Dude, there’s no one else here in the gym but us. Maybe you could use a treadmill down there?” Bayley said flatly, motioning down the gym room to the left.

“Haven’t seen ya in a bit, Champ, that’s how ya greet an old friend?” Becky responded, smirking.

“Look… I know what you’re gonna do, and I really don’t have time for this shit. If you’re gonna be here then we exercise in silence,” Bayley said through gritted teeth. She looked around briefly, and saw that there were a few staff members milling about, but they were still far away from the two women.

“What did ya think I’d do?” Becky asked softly with a dangerous glare.

Bayley sighed and shut off her treadmill, and then hopped off the machine to start walking hurriedly towards the free weights area. Of all the possible things that could happen in the gym tonight…

Becky followed her swiftly, and she grabbed Bayley’s arm to swing her around.

“What the fuck’s your problem?! I’m not allowed to speak to ya?!” Becky shouted. A few of the gym staff turned to look at them, but they appeared apprehensive and kept their distance from the impending fight.

Bayley crossed her arms and looked away, she spoke in a defeated voice. “What do you want, Becky?”

Becky glanced over at the staff, who were all staring at them. “To talk. Let’s go to the locker room.”

They ensured that the locker room was empty before Becky locked the door. Bayley sat down on a bench, her arms still crossed and she was furious. Fury was an understatement in this situation, though.

Becky sat down on a bench as well, she sat opposite from Bayley but not in front of her - choosing to remain diagonal to provide some space between them.

“We haven’t talked in a while—”

“Becky, dude, what the fuck do you want?!” Bayley interrupted loudly.

Becky paused, her jaw set stiffly as she stared at Bayley. Bayley looked away quickly, not sure if she wanted to fight the Man in a locked room, closed quarters. No one would survive that encounter. And Bayley was honestly surprised that Becky was sitting and desired a civil conversation, instead of shoving her against the lockers and screaming in her face.

“Why’d you do it? You spoke to the world, and you said a whole lotta nuthin’,” Becky spat.

“You would’ve done the same thing, had she treated you like that. Fuck, dude. You and Charlotte have done worse to each other,” retorted Bayley harshly, not meeting her friend’s eyes.

Becky chuckled, but there was no humor in her laugh. “Thing is, sweetheart: Charlie and I were in a relationship, and then circumstances led to our separation. And no, we’ve never done the heinous shit you’ve been up to this month. You and Ms. Banks are allegedly ‘best friends’ so where’s the relation?”

“Dude, you can’t judge me—”

“Why’d you fucking hurt her? Why Bayley?!”

Becky’s voice rang out throughout the locker room. The world felt hollow. Bayley’s body stiffened, she said nothing.

_Because…_

_I’m afraid._

They sat in silence for what felt like eons. No sounds other than the frenetic tapping of Becky’s foot on the tiled floor, and the shifting of her body on the creaky bench every now and then. Bayley was essentially a statue, with crossed arms and a blank expression while staring at the floor.

_That she doesn’t love me._

_And never will._

_…_

Becky finally cleared her throat, but this did not stir movements from Bayley.

“Bayley… I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I’ve made. Even after everythin’ that’s happened, I still see myself in you. You’re my reflection,” Becky said softly, sagely.

“Dude,” Bayley started in a defensive tone, shifting herself slightly towards Becky, “I didn’t make a mistake. I did what had to be done to protect myself from her. All the signs were there! She wasn’t happy and she would’ve betrayed me eventually. She wanted my shine, so I gave her ice! And now that’s gone. She didn’t care about me, and I damn sure don’t care about her.”

“Is that what you tell yourself at night?” Becky asked quietly.

Bayley bit her lip and shook her head in annoyance. “Fuck are you talking about? And Mella keeps me up at night, so there’s no telling—”

Laughter exploded from Becky’s lips and Bayley abruptly stopped talking.

“Whatta load o’ bullshit! Mella tells anyone who will listen anythin’ they want to know. And she’s been pretty vocal about your, err.. performance - or lack thereof,” jeered Becky, stating these words in between gasps of laughter.

Embarrassment flushed hot on Bayley’s cheeks and she quickly looked away from the giggling Becky. Carmella was always sweet to her but Bayley did notice some frustration from her; they never had sex. Bayley could not bring herself to that point. She was attracted to Carmella and she desperately wanted to pleasure her but she was too stressed to be aroused, and something was not right…

“Well? So why can’t you commit to Carmella? Aren’t you dying to give her the ‘Uno Strap’ that she’s been craving?” laughed Becky.

In the midst of Becky’s jests, Bayley spoke quietly - mostly to herself: “Because… she’s not….”

Becky stopped laughing long enough to catch Bayley’s words. She adjusted her face to be a bit more serious, but she still had a wide grin.

“It’s ‘cause you fucking love Sasha,” Becky stated, definitively.

Bayley sighed and slumped over, burying her face in her hands.

_Sasha’s my best friend. And that’s it._

_Was my best friend._

“I’m sorry, lass… These feelings are hard to solve. I know, I’ve been through it. Even to this day, I love Charlotte. Always will. And I loved her enough to let her go, and let her see things for herself. Things didn’t work out, and sometimes they don’t. But you and Sasha have never tried to see if things would work between you two. Don’t let your time run out. ‘Cause when she’s gone, she’s gone forever.”

It felt like Becky’s words echoed throughout Bayley’s head.

_Forever._

“It’s not like that between us. Sasha and I were just friends. I hate it when everyone makes up stuff about us… How could you feed into the rumors, Becky? And you’re completely ignoring what I have with Mella—”

Becky’s raucous laughter returned. “You and Mella?! The fake rebound you pulled because you thought the Boss would never be with you? You’re only hanging around her because you’re afraid to be alone at night. Afraid that your own worries will drive you mad. Bayley, I know you… I’ve known you and Sasha for so long. Don’t lie to me about this shit! Tell the truth, for once, please. Tell the truth.”

Becky was right. And Carmella’s presence was not always helpful. And Bayley made excuses whenever Carmella asked for more from her in bed. Bayley’s thoughts did consume her, and her guilt hung in the air like a vapor that followed her wherever she ventured. Carmella would be chatting with her, showing her how to make healthy smoothies in the kitchen, and Bayley would feel so anxious and preoccupied. And she knew that Carmella saw this, and was disturbed. And Bayley brushed it off, and her bravado would take over to try to appease her friend. But that was all, she did not want a girlfriend. Just a friend, to hopefully take her mind off things. To warm her bed. To forget.

To take her mind off Sasha. Even for just a second.

“I don’t… I don’t know what the truth is, Becky,” Bayley murmured.

_And I don’t want to hear it from Sasha. I’ll take the wind out of her throat before she speaks the truth._

“You do, lass. You love her. I’ve seen it in your face for years. And I know she loves you,” Becky stated firmly.

Bayley stared at Becky, shocked. “What? …Did she say something to you?”

Becky shrugged and sighed. “You know how the Boss speaks. In so many words. But it’s obvious how she feels about you. You complete her.”

Bayley mused on Sasha’s words tonight at the interview. She had hid in the shadows among maintenance equipment as she eavesdropped on Sasha.

_“You are nothing without me.”_

_Nothing._

_Without me._

“I dunno, Man,” Bayley sighed, crossing her arms again.

“You do know, Bayley! And your time is runnin’ out. You can keep chasing the gold, and you’ll lose that woman forever. And you’ll regret that for the rest of your days on this earth.”

There was a lengthy pause as Bayley contemplated these words, and she could tell that Becky’s words stirred memories within herself that she was still analyzing internally.

Bayley breathed heavily before speaking to Becky quietly: “Do you regret… what happened between you and Char?”

Becky smiled ruefully and looked away, her eyes looked watery. “No… Never. I’ll never regret tryin’ to make things work with her. I love her. And we were brave enough to make that leap together. To be together… There’s no shame in trying.”

* * *

_“People that can hurt you, the ones that can really hurt you, are the ones that are close enough to do it. People that get inside you and tear you apart and make you feel like you’re never going to recover.”_

Sasha sat on the edge of her bed, she forgot exactly how long she sat there. Time had lost its shape and form, it was no longer a defined concept. After Charlotte left, she changed into loose black shorts and a gray tank top, with a light pink satin robe over this. Her legs were crossed, and she stared absently out into the moonlight pouring into her open balcony doors. She desired some fresh air but now the room was getting a bit chilly. She was once again enduring her nightly terror of trying to get to sleep.

_Maybe Char should have stayed…_

She was wearing more concealer in recent times because of the dark circles forming under her eyes from the lack of sleep. A steel chair dumped her world into the icy grip of exhaustion and anxiety. She removed the neck brace tonight, she only had to wear it while she was up and moving around anyways. There was the familiar, dull ache in her throat.

In the recent past, she would usually fall asleep before Bayley did when they slept next to each other. She often fell asleep on Bayley’s chest, her best friend’s heart beat was her favorite lullaby.

_Lub dub._

Calming. Soothing.

Comforting. And she felt warm and protected in Bayley’s arms.

_Lub dub._

Now, she was afraid to close her eyes. Traumatic images greeted her in this darkness. The arms that protected her ended up harming her. So she would lay awake in the cold bed, staring up at the ceiling and fought against sleep. Imaginary sheep did not visit her to be counted.

Her doorbell rang suddenly. It was a pleasant, almost musical interruption from her racing thoughts. She smiled a bit, Charlotte left her cardigan on the couch downstairs and knew that she came back to retrieve it.

_Maybe I could ask her to stay?_

Sasha swiftly left the bedroom and raced down the stairs, excited to see her friend again. She opened the front door.

Charlotte was not there.

…

It was Bayley.

…

Bayley wore a white tank top with a rose design on the upper left, and black jogger pants with black skater shoes. Her short, dark hair was swept back. An apprehensive expression plagued her face.

Sasha’s mouth opened a bit, stunned. Her heart stopped beating and her lungs stopped working.

“Sash—”

Sasha shut the door suddenly and locked it frantically. She reached around in her robe for her phone, and her pockets were empty. She cursed at herself and ran back upstairs, practically jumping the steps in her anxiety.

When she arrived in her bedroom, she immediately walked to her nightstand to pick up her phone. Her battery was low.

_Shit._

She would not call the police, they were completely and utterly useless and would just make this situation so much worse.

She would call Charlotte. Or Becky.

_Shit! Why is she here?!_

Or send a mass text message to a bunch of people and see who answers first—

“Sasha!”

This startled her and the phone fumbled out of her hand, crashing to the floor. Bayley was calling for her outside of the balcony.

“Sasha!”

Sasha crouched down to pick up her phone and in a split second decision, opened the nightstand drawer to retrieve her large, ornate “BOSS TIME” rings.

_What if Bayley found a way to climb up the balcony? Was that even possible? Could she do that?_

“Sasha! Can I talk to you please?”

The sound of thunder suddenly erupted from the sky and Sasha heard rain start to fall steadily. She shoved her rings and phone into her pockets, crouched around the bed and slowly sauntered to the open balcony doors. She would shut the doors, shut the rain out, and shut Bayley out forever.

Sasha peered around one of the doors, and saw Bayley gazing up at the balcony from the outside. The moon lit the scene eerily, trees with long, arching branches framed the background. Sasha’s house was in a fairly secluded woodland area, the closest house was still quite far. It was not a torrent of rain, but enough to be uncomfortable while standing in it. Bayley stood there, determined. Her expression was hard to read.

“Sasha… please, I’m sorry. Could I talk to you? I’m not here to fight… Just please,” she called.

Sasha ducked out of view, her heart continuing to hammer away inside her chest. She could not think. She did not know what would be the best way to deal with this.

_How long is Bayley going to stand in the rain?_

She reached around and shut the balcony doors quickly. She locked them and then stood with her back against the doors, still thinking. Before she could completely register what was going on, she found herself mechanically walking down the stairs and moving towards the front door.

_Maybe._

She slowly unlocked and opened the door, she could hear her heart beating, throbbing in her ears.

_It was not too late._

Bayley was gazing at the ground at first, her hands in her pockets. Then she looked up when she heard the door open. She stared at Sasha, open-mouthed. Sasha backed away from the open door a little, biting her lip, and trying, and failing to calm her heart. Bayley approached, her black hair was wet, and some strands gripped the sides of her face.

In the doorway, Bayley made a sudden movement of taking her hands out of her pockets, and Sasha reacted instinctively. Armed with her large knuckle rings, she punched the side of Bayley’s face. The jewels and metal collided with Bayley’s flesh, tearing into it and causing her to stumble into the door. Bayley hung onto the door frame for support, while Sasha breathed heavily and backed away. Sasha was uncertain if she should approach and continue to fight her attacker or to retreat.

Bayley was on her knees and she stared in disbelief at Sasha. There was a small gash on the side of her face close to her left eye, and she touched it, blood stained her finger tips. She looked from the blood to Sasha, horrified.

“Why…?”

“I need you to leave. Now. You’ve… you’ve done enough damage,” Sasha whispered nervously, still backing away from Bayley.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Bayley whispered back as she rose to her feet. She slowly approached Sasha.

Sasha’s mind flashed back to Bayley’s figure two weeks ago, at ringside, stalking her menacingly as she lay broken with her arms up to protect herself.

_“Don’t look at me like that!”_

Sasha gripped the knuckle rings harder in her right hand. She had a change of heart at the balcony, because Bayley had that power over her. And it was the wrong decision. She had to defend herself, she would not allow Bayley to mutilate her in her home. She looked around, and wondered if there was any other weapon she needed to stop this monster.

Bayley put her hands up, her voice was soothing but Sasha did not register her words. Then Bayley was on her knees again, in front of her, reaching for her hips and her mid-section. Sasha stopped. On her knees, Bayley embraced her suddenly, pulling her close.

“I’m sorry—”

The rest of Bayley’s words were muffled by the sounds of Sasha smacking her repeatedly with her right hand that was adorned with the metal rings. The metal again chipped viciously into Bayley's face.

“Get off of me! Let me go!” screamed Sasha, pounding away at Bayley’s face. The blows landed hard against flesh wet from the rain. 

Bayley ducked and weaved around, still on her knees, still making herself appear small and safe to ease Sasha’s fears. But it wasn’t working. Bayley hugged her tightly, burying her swollen and bleeding face into Sasha’s abdomen.

“Sasha! I love you! Stop!” Bayley pleaded.

The rings clanged to the floor.

* * *

They were supposed to talk. But they sat in silence for a while. Bayley held a paper towel to the side of her face, to apply pressure to the bleeding cut that oozed continuously. She alternated this with a small bag of frozen peas that Sasha gave her, wrapped in a towel that had become stained with red. She sat at the breakfast bar while Sasha stood by the stove, leaning against the counter.

Sasha glanced at Bayley a couple of times but her heart skipped beats doing this, she opted mostly to stare at the tiled floor.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” Bayley finally said.

“Just tonight?” Sasha retorted quickly, softly. She did not meet her friend’s eyes.

Bayley paused to exchange the paper towel with her “ice pack,” she stared glumly at the counter.

“No… ‘bout everything… And I know I can’t fix it all tonight… I don’t know what else to do,” Bayley said quietly, her voice cracking a bit from emotion.

“You can fix it… by getting out of my life,” Sasha said, tears finally falling down her face as she continued to look away.

Bayley looked up at her. She wanted to stand up and hold her best friend close, she wanted to dry her tears and to once again be the person she looked to for unconditional support. But Bayley realized that any movements from her, whether sudden or deliberate, sparked anger and violence from Sasha. And this was Bayley’s fault. Her own paranoia influenced her to attack Sasha twice, and now Sasha’s heart was focused on self-preservation. She knew Sasha was afraid, and this hurt.

“I love you. I mean that, Sasha,” whispered Bayley, her voice clouded by pain.

“Bayley…” Sasha started, she tried to calm her voice and control the sobs before continuing: “That’s not… that’s not how you treat someone you love.”

Bayley knew that she shook Sasha’s core, practically destroying her best friend. And she had repressed feelings of love for so long, _and for what?_ To be in a fake friends with benefits situation with Carmella? To avoid the truth with Sasha?

Because she feared Sasha response. That the response would be: _I’m sorry, but I’m not in love with you._

She would rather keep her friend than expose feelings that could destroy everything, but now she had nothing. She had less than nothing. And this void, even when she tried, could not be filled by gold or by another woman who flattered her.

“I’m sorry. I was afraid—”

“Of what?” snapped Sasha, finally looking up at Bayley. Her pride and internal fire reflected in her gaze.

“Losing you… losing our friendship…”

“No,” Sasha whispered back, now starting to dry her eyes with a paper towel, “You’re afraid to lose your championship.”

“If it was all about that, then I wouldn’t be here,” Bayley responded quietly.

* * *

Sasha was not exactly sure how the events of tonight, of being attacked again at the Performance Center, refusing Charlotte’s help, her scuffle with Bayley in the living room, and their discourse in the kitchen led to the current situation. She was laying in bed, and the bed felt warm and inviting for the first time in a long time. Bayley lay next to her but there was significant space between them in the king-size bed. Bayley was gazing up at the ceiling, a thick bandage over the cut on the left side of her face.

Sasha spoke softly: “Does she know you’re here?”

“No.”

Sasha shifted herself, so that she was supported by her elbow and stared at Bayley. “I don’t think your girlfriend would be very happy if she found out you were in my bed.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Then what is she?”

Bayley sighed, turning to look at Sasha. “Just a friend. We haven’t… you know… I know what you’re thinking….”

“Yeah, I heard a rumor about that,” Sasha said, smiling a little.

“I’m sure…” Bayley said softly. She looked away, musing on their situation.

Silence flooded the room once again. Sasha could feel fatigue creeping into her body. This was a forgotten feeling, but welcomed greatly since the anxiety and terrors of the night often overwhelmed her sleep.

Bayley also had fragmented sleep. She was always overthinking, even when Carmella slept easily next to her. Thinking of her actions. And remorse, guilt, anger, defensiveness mashed within her.

And. She was always thinking of Sasha.

Sasha crept closer, slowly, and this surprised Bayley. She touched Bayley’s arm, and Bayley patted the space between them, signaling for her to come closer. Soon, Sasha was snuggled next to her, resting her hand on Bayley’s arm.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” Sasha murmured.

Bayley grinned slightly. “Don't say that. I’m the one who made the mistakes…”

“No, I’m sorry for everything…” Sasha responded. She thought about their past few years, the back and forth, from enemies to friends to enemies… back to friends to enemies. Their enduring tragedy.

_Maybe it wasn’t meant to be._

“When I told you I loved you a couple years ago, I meant it. You didn’t respond…” whispered Sasha, her fingers rubbing Bayley’s arm.

“I’m sorry it took me two years to answer. But… I do love you. Always have, always will,” answered Bayley softly.

“I love you too, Bayley.”

Sasha found her way back to Bayley’s chest, and she lay her head there peacefully. She felt Bayley grip her hand, and Bayley’s other hand rubbed her back. Back to the silence, but it was a deep, thoughtful silence of acknowledgment and understanding.

_Maybe it was too late._

And maybe these words would not change anything. Maybe Bayley would wake up furious in the morning because half of her face was bruised and swollen and cut. Maybe Sasha would wake up, stricken with panic and neck pain when the memories of her trauma and her need for vengeance came back. Maybe these words would be forgotten in the heat of the war for the blue belt. But they chose a ceasefire for tonight, maybe just for tonight. The weary combatants would lay down their weapons for the sake of each other, just for tonight.

And for the first time in two weeks, Bayley and Sasha both fell into a dreamless, restful sleep.

_“You sit here and you’re all confused about this thing. But you have it. You have everything. So hold onto it. Use two hands, and never let go.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Even after several stages of editing, this went on much longer than I thought! Sorry, I rambled on and on...  
> But thanks for reading. I’m on Twitter, @Loyal_Chef. See ya there!


End file.
